


Ambassador To the Wild

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- non magic, Animal Rights Activist!Remus, Detective!Sirius, First Kiss, First Meeting, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Veterinarian!Remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5396066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Sergeant Sirius Black just wanted a drink after a long day.  That's all.  So chasing down an assault suspect--whether or not he had noble intentions--was not on his list of things to do.  Unfortunately for Sirius, the man--with the impressive arrest record--was a little more than just fascinating.  He was also very good looking and it made Sirius want to throw protocol out the window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambassador To the Wild

**Author's Note:**

> So this comes from the prompt: Could I ask you for a prompt with Detective!Sirius and Student/Delinquent!Remus who gets caught in some act by Sirius and they kinda start bonding in the aftermath or sth? by aka-no-namida
> 
> I decided to go with activist Remus instead of delinquent because I feel like he would totally be the type to have a long record for trying to save fluffy lab bunnies whilst also running a Holistic Animal Clinic. And I love me some Detective!Sirius. It's not as long as it could be, but my schedule is mad right now. In fact I'm posting this whilst in an incredibly boring work meeting, only because I know I won't have time later. x

He just wanted a drink. It shouldn’t have been too much to ask, really. His caseload was to the point of ridiculous—the sort of ridiculous that made him want to cry actual tears. The sort of ridiculous where he questioned his life, and every choice he ever made which got him into this job. Most of those choices starting with James, and ending with Potter. The bastard.

He was meant to be celebrating his promotion, just three months after James had gotten his, but instead he found himself that evening scrubbing actual blood from his arms. Not from anything exciting, either. No, some drugged-out tramp vomited blood. On him. On his actual person. They’d been trying to get the bloke to co-operate and get into the car so they could transport him to an hospital for treatment when he just sort of…unleased.

Like the Exorcist.

Except instead of pea soup it was blood and other sorts of horrors he didn’t want to know about.

So they had to send him down for exams to have him tested to make sure he hadn’t contracted anything—and there would be _hell_ to pay if he did—and then he was sent on his merry way. Or well not so merry as James had gone off to be with Lily who insisted since it was apparently some anniversary or something. Not that Sirius was paying attention. It probably had something to do with sex, which he wanted no part in as he was extremely bent and very disinterested in their hetero-nonsense.

So instead he was congratulating and consoling himself at the same time with a pint at the local, hoping to just be unnoticed.

Only nothing for Sirius was ever easy, because just as he was halfway through the delicious, frothy goodness of a dark and tasty Guinness, there was a commotion at the door. He craned his neck, telling himself to _not_ get involved because he was not on duty and he just wanted his sodding pint. God. Damn. It. 

But he was also Sirius Black and sticking his nose in things tended to be his second nature. So without really trying, he was on his feet and trying to see what was happening. There were two people at the door, and they were having a rather loud shouting match with each other.

“…and I’ve told you to stop coming in here. No one wants to deal with that sort of filth.”

“You’ve no right to refuse me just because he was interested,” shouted the second one.

Sirius managed to get a look at them. The first was a tall bloke with massive, Viking-like shoulders and a shock of white-blonde hair. He was staring down the second who was very tall, dark-tawny curls, wearing what looked like at least three jumpers, patchwork trousers made of duvet and corduroy—or Sirius had to assume by the way they were sort of quilted together—and he had a smattering of light scars across his face.

“He wasn’t interested til you came round and I won’t tolerate that poufy shite, do you hear me?”

Sirius felt his face go red because, really? Were people still on about that these days? He nearly walked up to say something, to diffuse the situation only the patchwork bloke decided to take that moment and bodily launch himself at the big one. His fists were flying, and he actually got a few decent hits in before the other was able to recover his shock and began dishing out his own form of hetero-justice.

Sirius rolled his eyes, pulled out his badge, and decided that since Patchwork Bloke was the aggressor, he’d have to be dealt with. “Enough! Everyone stop!” He used his commanding, Detective Voice to get the situation to calm as he flashed his badge.

Patchwork Bloke looked definitely shocked, then before Sirius could react, he was on his feet and running. For whatever reason, two-thirds of a Guinness still sloshing in his stomach, he ran after him. His boots clicked loud on the pavement as he rounded the corner, and thanked James for the first time that night for forcing him to keep in shape enough that he could give chase on three biscuits, nine cups of tea, and an almost-pint.

Patchwork Bloke went into an alley, and Sirius had to wonder if he was completely pissed because he attempted to crouch behind one of the bins, but Sirius had seen him. Slowing to a gentle stroll, Sirius leant on the cold metal, crossing his arms, and looked over. “Really? Running?”

Out of breath, Patchwork Bloke waved his hand. “Seemed…seemed better than…” he gasped.

“Take your time,” Sirius replied lazily.

Patchwork’s eyes narrowed, and in the crappy light of the street, they looked almost orange. “Didn’t fancy being arrested in front of that twat.”

Sirius licked his lips. “You think I was going to arrest you?”

“I assaulted him,” Patchwork said as he eased himself into a standing position. He leant against the wall like he needed the support, and clutched round his middle. “Running was a really bad idea.”

Sirius let out a somewhat undignified snort and shook his head. “You alright? Should I radio for an ambulance?”

Patchwork rolled his eyes, his hands going absently into his curls and he ruffled them. “I’ve been worse. Anyway, can we get this over with? Because honestly it’s not my first go-round.”

“Record, have you? Delinquent? Repeat offender,” Sirius drawled.

Patchwork shrugged a lazy shoulder. “I like to call it social justice, but whatever you like.”

“Now I’m curious,” Sirius drawled. “How bad is it?”

Patchwork stopped, his eyes going more narrow. “…are you going to arrest me?”

“I’m debating,” Sirius answered, though the truth was, he wasn’t. He had no intention of actually calling this in. In fact he’d like to go back to the pub and smack the Viking bloke upside the head a few times for being a fucking bigot, but he reckoned that would cause more trouble than it was worth. “It’s my night off.”

Patchwork’s eyes darted off to his left, clearly debating if he had room to run, which he didn’t. Sirius wasn’t entirely sure, but he’d probably give chase again if he had to. “He had it coming, you know? He’s been following me round for the past week chasing me out of pubs. All I wanted was a pint.”

Sirius’ lips pursed, his arms crossing over his chest. “Why’s that?”

“Pulled his brother,” Patchwork said with a shrug. “Just a one-off. He was curious, I was horny. He was fairly good looking. Apparently Big Brother was less than pleased his brother discovered he enjoyed cock in the mouth.”

Sirius couldn’t help it. He laughed. So hard he had tears in his eyes and he was doubled over at the waist. “Christ, man. Give a bloke some warning before dropping something that good. What’s your name?”

Patchwork stared at him for a very long time before he answered. “Remus Lupin.”

Sirius lifted a brow. “Is that a real name, or are you trying to dodge me being able to look up your record. I can change my mind and haul you in for disorderly conduct.”

His jaw tensed. “Real name. Figured there’s not much point in lying to the detective who could chase me down.” He sighed. “Mind if I have a fag?”

“Is that why you’re shite at running?” Sirius asked, then gave Remus the go-ahead nod. After a second of debate, he held his hand out for one and Remus gave the pack over without a second thought. “My partner will kill me but…what he doesn’t know…”

“Partner?” Remus questioned.

Sirius lit the end of his cigarette and took a long drag. “Not like that. Detective partner. Also best mate. Father to my godson. Dunno why I’m telling you all this. I’m single though. And gay, so your row with that fucking Viking back there had it coming. Just like you said.”

Remus was staring at him hard. “Are you taking the piss? Because it’s been a bloody long night for me. Probably one of the worst, so I don’t appreciate…”

“I’m not,” Sirius said. “In fact, I was thinking of inviting you back inside because I didn’t even get through all mine before you started Gay World War Who Sodding Knows and interrupted me. And you look like you could use one.”

Remus bit down on his lip, then took a last drag of his cigarette and dropped it into a puddle of something dark and partly slimy. “Yeah, alright. One condition, if he’s still there…”

“Snog you stupid?” Sirius offered, thinking that wouldn’t be so bad at all because this Remus Lupin was definitely fit. In the weird, social justice, hippy sort of way. Sirius would put money on him having some sort of hand-knitted beanie tucked in his back pocket, and he probably wore crystals round his neck.

Remus snorted in surprise. “I was thinking take my hand or…something less showy but snogging works for me.”

Sirius grinned, reaching out and testing out the whole hand holding thing. Remus’ hands were absurdly large, but Sirius’ long, piano-playing fingers—as James’ mum always called them—fit round Remus’ nicely. Palm to palm, it was hot and a little sweaty, and made Sirius’ heart pound a bit. But in a good way.

“Alright?” Remus breathed, his face a bit flushed in the cheeks.

Sirius laughed, thinking how ridiculous this felt because what was he, some fifteen year old trying to get off behind the footie pitch? He gave Remus’ arm a tug. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Better than before. Though you should let me treat the next round since I sort of made you go on a chase on your night off.”

Sirius laughed as they headed back round the corner. There was no commotion, so clearly no one tried to bother with further assistance. The last thing Sirius needed was half the Met annoying him in his sanctuary. “I’ll take you up on that,” he said eventually.

The Viking was gone, unfortunately, Sirius noticed when they got in. But Remus didn’t let go of his hand and Sirius was in no hurry to break the contact. His remaining Guinness had been removed from the bar top, but as they slid in their seats and ordered another, Sirius barely noticed.

*** 

“…so here I am, trying to shove him into the car when he looks at me dead in the eyes, opens his mouth…” Sirius paused to take a drink of the pint, and watched Remus over the rim of the glass. He had a slight smirk on his mouth, leant forward in anticipation for the end of the story, eyes alight. “And I’m thinking, is he going to say something? Recite a sonnet? Sing me a song?”

Remus snorted. “And?” he pressed.

“And he vomited. It was like the bloody Exorcist. He didn’t even change expression,” Sirius groaned, clenching his glass. “He just sort of opened his mouth and it came pouring out.”

“Christ,” Remus breathed. “You’re not taking the piss?”

“No, and wait until you hear the best part. Most of what came out was blood. Like actual human blood. Like he was the fucking Vampire Lestat on some human piss-up and was now losing it all over me. Worst. Night. Ever.”

Remus blinked, then threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Sirius. I mean, shit. And here I thought a cat losing total control over its bowels was the night to top all shitty nights. Literally. But no. Gold star, you win.”

Sirius licked his lips, then smiled over the rim of his glass as he finished off his second pint. “Also the reason I’d be a bit hesitant to go with the whole snogging bit—god knows what I might have caught. Though shame he’s not here, that bigoted arse.”

Remus waved his hand. “He’ll be back, I’m sure. Hasn’t let me get a moment’s peace since his bi-curious-turned-very-bi brother brought his dog into my clinic.”

Over the past thirty minutes Sirius had learnt Remus was a vet, running a low-cost, holistic animal treatment facility. He’d spent most of his childhood very poorly and barely scraping by through Uni. But he’d always known what he wanted to be, and most of his arrest record came from protests at animal testing facilities, and other rallys to do with feminism, LGBTQ+ issues, and—of course—the economy.

“I shouldn’t even be here with you, you know,” Remus said after a while. “I can’t imagine what my mates would say, me having a few pints with The Man.”

“We’re not all horrible, you know,” Sirius argued. “I mean, I’m quite socially liberal myself.”

“Flaming gay detective, I should hope so. Though you’re obviously very posh and probably related to some royalty somewhere or…or something.” Remus was starting to sound a little pissed, and Sirius was feeling it as well.

Putting on an offended face, he turned his nose up. “First of all, my father was the British Ambassador to Thailand where he met my mum.”

“So colonialism. Noted.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “And they were very rich, and I went to a very posh boarding school where I learnt how to blow the footie team and get my family so pissed off with me they completely cut me off and disinherited me.”

Remus blinked, then laughed again. “You’re shitting me.”

“Not even a little. I came into a small inheritance from one of my very gay, shunned uncles. Enough to get me through Uni and buy the parts for Maggie.”

Remus’ brows dipped. “Maggie?”

“Motorbike,” Sirius said, exchanging his empty pint for a fresh one. He decided it should be the last, so he took a small sip to savour it. “Built her from scratch. She’s my pride and joy. But I was very working class, I’ll have you know. I washed dishes, then worked behind a bar for all the years it took me to get my degree. So I resent the implications, sir.”

Remus looked at him fondly. “Well leftover, Aristocratic accents and taste in jeans—and don’t look at me like that—I know those cost more than my monthly wages—I’d say you’re alright, Sirius Black. Detective, Sirius Black,” he corrected.

Sirius felt his cheeks heat up. “Ponce.”

“Er. I’d go with twat, or tosser,” Remus said with a nod.

“Spend a lot of time insulting yourself, do you?”

Remus leant his elbow on the bar, resting his chin in his hand. “I have my moments of severe self-deprecation, but for the most part I think I’m alright. What about you, eh?”

“Me? Think you’re alright?” Sirius looked him up and down. “Still deciding, but so far pleased.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Not what I meant, but thank you.” He swiped his hand down his face. “There’s really no chance in getting anything tonight, is there?”

Sirius let out a long-suffering sigh. “Unfortunately I do seem to rather like you, so no. For your sake, trust me. But I should have the lab work soon enough and they can let me know if I’m all sorted. I’ve had all my jabs, even the unnecessary ones so very little can harm me. I’m fairly impervious.”

“Christ,” Remus muttered behind a grin. “Well…how about I give you my number and if you get your all-clear, you ring me? We can have a do-over.”

Sirius grinned. “Yeah, alright. But if you fake number me, Lupin, I know where to find you.”

He laughed, then scribbled it down on the napkin which had been resting under Sirius’ beer. The dark brown ring of Guinness didn’t quite mask the numbers, and Sirius knew he’d never be able to even smell the dark stout without thinking about the barmy, patchwork, Remus Lupin.

*** 

It took eleven long days to get his labs back, to find out he was just fine. Of course they’d been saying that the entire time, but Sirius had all-but written the eulogy for James to read at his imaginary funeral before he was given his all-clear.

“I told you, you fucking wanker,” James said, flopping down into Sirius’ more comfortable desk chair. “Anyway so we should go out and properly celebrate. Now that you’re free of disease. Officially, anyway. They obviously don’t know about your…”

“Oh shut it,” Sirius groused. “And I think I might be busy.”

Sitting up, James gave him a withering look. “Busy? Without me? I’m sorry but is that even allowed? Can you say those words together like that?”

Rolling his eyes, Sirius sank into his chair and said, “I’m going to ring him tonight.”

“Who?” Then James’ eyebrows shot up. “The barmy vet with the record? Which, by the way, he wasn’t lying about.”

Sirius’ eyes went wide. “You looked? You fucking shite! Why’d you look? Even I manged to restrain myself.”

“And as commendable as your efforts were, it is actually my job to make sure you’re not about to pull some crime-lord. Although that might be a decent premise for a film.”

Sirius sat back, shaking his head. “So what’d you find out?”

“Nothing special. Local charges only, never more than a few hours in. Mostly fines as sentences. There’s some decent shots of him in the paper though, looking just your type. All rugged and hippy-like.”

“Oy, I don’t fancy them rugged and hippy-like.”

“Fucking liar. You were gone over what his name for fucking ages. All through sixth form.”

Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “If you’re talking about Frank…”

“Right. Yes. The super straight vegan who wanted to start that green water company or whatever it was…” James shook his head. “You started recycling, Sirius. _Recycling_. This bloke is your type.”

Sirius covered his face and sighed. “Yeah well…why don’t you fuck off out of here so I can see if he actually is interested in me.”

James got up, clapping him on the shoulder and whispered, “Good luck,” before letting himself out.

Sirius flashed him double Vs before taking the number out of his desk—and if he’d looked at it a few hundred times no one had to know—and placed it by his desk phone. He thrummed his fingers on the wood for several moments before telling himself to stop being a fucking git and just ring him.

So he did.

And it rang so many times he was sure voicemail was going to pick up before a rather harassed voice answered. “Lupin.”

“Er. Hi. It’s erm…Sirius. Black. From the pub.”

“Oh my god Detective Sergeant,” Remus said, still sounding out of breath. “D’you mind if I set you down for just a second. See I have this cat that…ow fuck! This cat that…”

“Go on,” Sirius said with a slight laugh. He listened to the sounds of Remus trying to coax what had to be a very displeased feline into doing something it very clearly did not want to do. The whole thing took several minutes, and when Remus finally returned, he sounded tired and very harassed. 

“Alright, sorry about that.”

Sirius tried not to laugh directly at him. “You know I was going to ask you out but if it’s a bad night…”

“Oh god, really? No that’s…I mean honestly after today I think I’d like to swim in a pool of beer. Or whiskey. I’d even settle for a cheap scotch.”

Sirius felt his whole body flush because for whatever reason he found this man so lovely. “Alright. Anywhere you have in mind? Where you’re not being chased out by Viking homophobes?”

Remus chuckled. “I’ve not seen him in a few days so I think anywhere would be alright.”

Sirius absently put the tip of his fancy fountain pen in his mouth and bit down on it. “How about I pick you up? If you’re not scared.”

“Of what?” Remus asked with a laugh. “Do I seem the type to shy away? You’ve seen my arrest record.”

“Yeah,” Sirius drawled, “for setting free lab bunnies and chaining yourself to posts at hippy rallies.”

“Christ,” Remus muttered behind a laugh. “Here, take down the address to my clinic. I warn you I probably won’t smell all that great, but if the night goes well, maybe we can find our way to a shower somewhere. Together.”

Sirius’ entire body went flaming hot, and he coughed loudly. “Jesus, I hope you don’t chat-up everyone like that.”

“I don’t chat-up anyone ever. Except gorgeous detectives who chase me down the street.”

Sirius’ first instinct was to call him a liar, but he was also well trained to hear when people were lying, and this Remus Lupin sounded as genuine as they came. He was so fucked—literally he hoped. “Alright, give me the address, you tart. And I’ll see you tonight.”

*** 

Sirius was not one to be nervous before dates. True he didn’t do it often as being a detective didn’t really offer a large dating pool, and he didn’t get out often considering his schedule, but he’d never been _shy_ before. Then again, no one had ever made him so wobbly in the knees before. Not like this. Not even when he was overly hormonal and convinced he was falling madly in love with Gideon Prewett, the gorgeous Rugby Captain two years ahead of him.

In truth, Gideon had shown Sirius all he needed to know about sex—but he’d been a terrible lay. And realising he could get better by his own hand took a lot of the spark out of it.

Taking a breath, Sirius pulled his bike up to the kerb and switched it off. The clinic was small, bit dodgy looking with one window covered in spider-webbed cracks, and the door looked like it could do with a fresh coat of paint—or replacing entirely. The sign was hand-carved, perched on the wall but a little crooked like it was about to fall off.

Moon Holistic Animal Clinic

Sirius snorted. Never in his life did he ever imagine he’d be dating some wool-wearing, hippy vet. And yet here he was. And never mind what James insisted about his type. What did that fuckwit know, anyway?

Running a hand down his face, Sirius squared his shoulders, straightened his leather jacket, then strolled up to the door. He glanced down at his jeans—strategically ripped by the company who designed them, then at his shirt which he knew showed off the best parts of his waist and chest—and felt satisfied. So he took a bit of time for his appearance, who cared? He only hoped Remus would appreciate the view.

Pushing on the door, he was surprised that it opened. It gave a groan as it pushed inside, and whilst he expected to be assaulted by the smell of animal excrement and disinfectant, and the screeching, whining sounds of caged animals, instead he was met with a pleasant, floral scent, and soft music blaring from a tiny speaker at the check-in desk.

“Hello?” Sirius called out.

“We’ve closed for the evening,” called Remus’ voice. “If you’d like to…” He came round the corner and stopped, his face melting into an almost shy smile. “Oh. Hi.”

Sirius felt his cheeks go hot. “Hey.”

“I’m just washing up,” Remus said, and then he caught sight of Sirius and gave him a slow up and down. “Mind waiting a sec?”

Sirius grinned at him. “Take your time. Pool full of cheap scotch isn’t going anywhere.”

Remus’ grin spread even wider and he hurried off. Sirius took the time to glance round at the place. It didn’t look like an animal clinic at all, save for the pictures of people and their pets pinned to nearly every available free space on the far wall. But there were no pet food or toy adverts anywhere, and the most he could see were a handful of pamphlets with ‘What to Watch For’ warning signs when you have a new puppy.

The rest of the place was homey and cosy. The chairs were all squashy and well-loved, and the walls were covered in art and shelves stuffed to the brim with books. There were a few photos of Remus along with a few other people—Sirius assumed to be office staff—and various animals that Sirius couldn’t work out if they were pets or just clients.

As he was studying a larger photo of Remus with a massive, black dog, he heard someone clear their throat and he spun round, a sheepish smile on his face. “Nice photos,” he said as Remus crossed over.

He was looking very much himself at the present time, though he had on plain trousers instead of the patchwork ones. But his jumper looked very well loved, threadbare at the elbows, but still soft. He confirmed Sirius’ earlier prediction that he owned a beanie, which was now perched on the back of his tight curls, and he was wearing a smile, his slight overbite poking over his bottom lip.

“Thanks,” he replied. “That’s Padfoot.”

Sirius turned and looked at the photo again. “Yours?”

“My favourite patient. He was found abandoned and starved, barely six weeks old. It was touch and go for a long time. He had loads of infections and I think I spent three full days not sleeping, just keeping him going. One of my best mates adopted him since I can’t have pets at my flat.”

Sirius felt something coiling in his belly, hot and wonderful. The thought of Remus nursing a tiny puppy back to health, and dedicating himself like that. It was rare—especially in Sirius’ job—that he found people who were by nature kind. 

Clearing this throat, he turned back to Remus. “Well, shall we?”

Remus nodded, grinning again as he led the way to the door. He locked up the clinic, then shoved his keys into his pocket. They approached Sirius’ bike, and it was then Remus hesitated a little bit.

“We can walk, you know,” Sirius said when he noticed it. “I mean, if you’re nervous.”

Remus swallowed, then shook his head. “I’m not one for motorbikes. Or cars. Bad accident when I was little, nearly killed me so I have…hesitations.”

Sirius backed away from the bike. “So we walk. I’m sure there’s something round here.”

Remus shook his head. “No, I trust you, and everything round here is really dodgy. I feel like they’d be less than friendly about two blokes on a date.”

Sirius scowled a bit, but shrugged and held his hand out for Remus to take it. “If it helps, I’m a very good driver. Never a single crash. Well…okay one tiny one with my best mate when we were eighteen. But none since.”

Remus gave him another shy smile as he slipped his palm into Sirius’, and they both froze a bit. Sirius had to wonder if he felt the same shocks running through his body at the contact. But neither said a word, and before long Remus was clambering up behind Sirius, arms tight round his waist. Sirius felt a cold nose pressed to the back of his neck, just under his bun, and he grinned to himself as he started the bike and revved the engine. Remus jumped a bit, but Sirius put his arm over where Remus was holding him and squeezed.

“Promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmured.

Remus nodded against him, then squeezed tight as Sirius pulled away from the kerb. After a little while, the vet visibly relaxed, his head turning to rest his cheek against Sirius’ shoulder as they headed to the pub from the night before.

It wasn’t terribly far, and before long they were rolling to a stop.

“Not so bad, eh?” Sirius asked as he dismounted.

Remus was grinning, hands back in his pockets. “Nah, not so much.”

Threading his arm through Remus’, they went in the door and to Sirius’ dismay, he spotted the Viking at a tall table, one hand curled round a stein. He locked eyes with Remus first, going tense like he was going to get up, but then he noticed Sirius and very clearly remembered that Sirius was with the Met. His jaw went tense, but he turned his face away, and Sirius smirked.

“See, pays to know people in high places,” Sirius muttered.

“Don’t be a twat,” Remus countered, but he was smiling. “You know I could take him if I really wanted to, right?”

“Yes, but then I really would have to arrest you for assault and not that it would stop me from taking you on a second date, but I think it would put a slight damper on our evening. Which, I should say, has the potential to be much more fun than jail.”

Remus’ cheeks went dark red, and Sirius smirked to himself as they approached the bar to order drinks and a basket of chips. They found a table away from the main crowd, and after a little while, were fed, and nursing a single pint as both men—clearly—wanted to be level-headed for most of the night.

“You know,” Sirius said, smearing the last chip into the last dredges of the curry sauce, “I don’t live far, and I have a few decent bottles of lager back at mine. If…if you fancy.”

Remus, whose gaze had been growing more and more heated, gave a slow nod. “I think that would be agreeable.”

Sirius licked his lips slowly, then removed his card to settle their tab. By the time he was done, Remus was on his feet, shifting weight from one foot to the other, and the second he had the chance took Sirius by the hand and pulled him very close. One hand lifted to Sirius’ cheek and he cupped it. 

“You’re very gorgeous.”

Sirius felt his entire body go flush. “Could say the same thing about you, you know?”

Remus blinked very slowly, watching Sirius from under his lashes. “How bad would it be to kiss you here? Before we go?”

Sirius put his hands at Remus’ hips and tugged him closer. “Not bad at all. In fact, I would be very agreeable to something like that.”

Remus tipped his head down, Sirius tipped his head up, and their lips met. Slow, careful, just a gentle press of tongue before they broke apart, but Sirius was out of breath like he’d just run a marathon.

“Christ,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against Remus’.

“Would it make me seem mad if I said I’ve never felt anything like this before?”

Sirius shook his head, not breaking contact. “No. Or well maybe yes, but that would make two of us.”

Remus’ smile was like a burst of sunshine and he tightened his grip on Sirius for just a moment. “God, let’s get the hell out of here before we both get arrested for indecent behaviour,” then captured Sirius’ lips once more.

Laughing into the kiss, Sirius broke it off. “Alright. Fuck. Let’s go.”

*** 

Though he didn’t’ tell Remus this, it was a miracle he didn’t crash. The entire drive back to his flat, all he could feel was Remus’ body pressed against his, and it was _so much_. He fought back a feral, raw urge to just jump off the moving bike, dragging Remus with him to some dark alley to have him right there.

But he focused on his white-knuckled grip on the handlebars and managed to get back to his without incident. Though he was shaking as he took Remus’ hand and led him upstairs.

It was a bit like a film after that, the heady desire so intense that the moment the door slammed shut, they were on each other. Remus was demanding, too, more than his shy demeanour let on. He shoved Sirius against the wall and started to devour his mouth like he would die if he wasn’t kissing him every second they were together.

Sirius’ trembling fingers began to work at buttons and zips, tugging at shirt hems all the while trying to guide Remus back to the bedroom. They stopped by every wall, every door to snog hard and desperate, and eventually stumbled to Sirius’ bedroom which was dark and a bit cold.

Remus took all of a second to glance round, noting the bed before he had his fist in Sirius’ hair, pulling him down to the unmade covers. They shifted everything to the side, their bodies already too hot and sweaty, and Remus began a dull, slow suck on the skin of Sirius’ neck.

“Fuck,” Sirius swore, his hips shifting against Remus’, hard. Remus gasped as he moved his mouth up, pressing his lips hard to Sirius’. “I want,” Sirius mumbled against Remus’ mouth. “I want…want you.”

“Yes,” Remus breathed. “Have you got any…?”

They rolled over together, Sirius’ hand flailing out and scrambling for condoms and lube. Nothing seemed more important right then, than getting Remus _inside_ him as hard and quickly as possible. He knocked everything about, nearly throwing his lamp to the floor, but eventually he had the drawer open and the box of condoms and lube which were several months old but still very usable.

Remus wasted no time urging Sirius onto his stomach as he uncapped the lube, and he ran a hand down Sirius’ spine gently before pressing his fingers _there_ , and slipping one inside. Sirius was so primed, so anxious, so _ready_ his entire upper half lifted off the sheets with an obscene groan.

Remus moaned back as he pushed in, then added a second finger. Then a third. He scrambled with his free hand for the condom, finally removing himself from Sirius to get it on, and Sirius heard the lube being slathered onto the rubber. 

Then there was pressure. Then there were hips pushing in. They were both trembling a bit, Sirius shifting his hips up and back to meet Remus as he fisted the sheets and pushed further and further until he was fully sheathed.

Sirius let his head dip forward, his knees threatening to give way if Remus didn’t move soon, and he let out a pathetic whimper as he rolled his hips backward. Remus let out a low his, then grabbed Sirius by the hips and began a slow, rocking rhythm.

He began to shift his angle, side to side, up, down until…

“Oh god oh fuck oh right there ohhhhh,” Sirius babbled, his arms giving out. He fell onto his forearms, his head hanging low, almost touching the sheets as Remus fucked into him hard.

It was over really fast, faster than Sirius wanted to think about. He had just gotten a hand on his own cock before his body was humming and aching and pulsing with his orgasm. His other senses dulled by the intense wave of pleasure, his half-lidded eyes watched his cum spurt out on the sheets, and he was vaguely aware of Remus cursing and spilling hot and needy inside him.

He was just regaining his breath as Remus pulled out, tying off the condom and searching for a bin. He found it by Sirius’ wardrobe, and when he turned, Sirius’ grey eyes appreciated the naked view.

Remus was mostly soft now, his body glowing in the light from the street filtering in through the window, and Sirius swore no one had ever been so beautiful before.

When Remus’ face twitched, Sirius realised he’d said it aloud.

There was an awkward pause, as though neither of them knew what was going to come next. Then Sirius shifted over and re-arranged the duvet and beckoned the other man over. “You know post-coital cuddles are a requirement, right?”

Remus snorted as he climbed, mindful of the wet spot, and found himself tucked against Sirius’ side. The detective’s dark hair was tucked up under Remus’ chin, and Sirius idly mouthed at Remus’ collarbone. 

“So,” Remus said, letting his hand stroke up and down Sirius’ spine. “That was…”

“Mm, yes it was. It very much was.”

Remus chuckled and shifted to kiss Sirius on his temple. “Can I be soppy and ridiculous and ask if we can make a proper go at this?”

Sirius sucked in his breath, then let it out slow and steady through his nose. “I’d like to think if you weren’t interested in something serious with me, I’d have accepted it and let it go, but I’m petty and awful. And I fancy you so much, so I’d probably trump up some false charges and have you arrested.”

“You’re joking.” 

Sirius shifted up and kissed Remus’ mouth gently. “Mostly I am.” He grinned and winked. “But yes. Yes I would very much like to make a proper go of this, Remus Lupin.”

Remus smiled and cupped Sirius’ cheek fondly. “Good. And if it was this amazing on our first date, I can’t wait to see what happens on our second.”


End file.
